The attack was a surprise to the warriors, who fled to their canoes in such fright that they forgot to take their paddles, and many were swept over the falls. They were assailed so determinedly that more than two hundred were slain. Sad to say, however, the great advantage thus gained was worse than thrown away. Another force of hostiles was in the neighborhood, and unexpectedly attacked the English. Somehow or other, the rumor spread among the whites that their enemies were under the lead of Philip himself. When there was not the least doubt of destroying the Indians, the troopers were seized with a panic and fled in headlong confusion. The enemy, much less in number, pursued them for several miles, and killed one-third of the English, including Captain Turner himself. This sad affair gave its name to Turner Falls.
Despite the many successes of the Indians, they were doomed to failure in the end. The English far outnumbered all the warriors Philip could bring into the field, and they were better disciplined and more capable than the dusky natives. The defeats of the latter became so numerous that the seat of war shifted from Massachusetts southward to Connecticut and Rhode Island. Knowing that the quickest road to peace was by pressing the war vigorously, Massachusetts passed a rigid law for the impressment of soldiers, and Captain Church, who had recovered from his wounds received in the swamp fight at Kingston, gave the hostiles no rest. He shrewdly scared a number of Philip's allies into leaving his cause and coming to the side of the English. Even among the Indians were many who saw the certain overthrow of Philip and the triumph of the English. When assured that none of these would be punished if they abandoned the chieftain, and warned that if they did not do so very soon, they would suffer the vengeance of the authorities, a large number made haste to accept the offer. Then, at the right moment, Massachusetts made known that she would pardon every Indian who laid down his arms within two weeks. So many took advantage of this offer, that the uprising received a fatal blow, and the danger to the English was past.
But Philip was not among those who cringed. He probably knew that although his warriors might be forgiven by the English, no pardon awaited him. A white man can be as fiendish as any savage, and that too without trying very hard, and many of those who preached the Gospel of love and forgiveness, were yearning for a chance to wreak vengeance upon the barbarian.
And yet Philip must have seen for a long time that he was waging a hopeless war. Since the longer he fought the more bitter would become the anger of the English against him, the question naturally arises, "Why then did he continue to fight?" To this, the answer is that such is Indian nature, and such the spirit of the warrior.
Ere long he became a fugitive, harried night and day. He was often obliged to flee in desperate haste, and make the quickest possible change of quarters. Some of his escapes could not have been narrower. One day, in a furious skirmish, a soldier recognized an Indian as the uncle of Philip, because of which he leveled his musket and shot him down, and yet the warrior at the side of the victim, who was spared and whose identity was unsuspected, was Philip himself. He cut off his hair, stained his face, and changed his clothes, so that many of his acquaintances failed to identify him. This stratagem saved the sachem more than once from the English, who were trying to run him to earth.
When everything was going wrong, one of his men ventured to suggest to him, that he should try to make terms with the whites. The chief whirled like lightning, his face aflame with fury, and brained the insolent warrior. But the victim had a brother, who bided his time, and then made the sachem pay dearly for his ferocious cruelty.
AN INDIAN CHIEF'S WIFE
Philip was devotedly attached to his wife and only son. He stealthily made his way to their home at Mount Hope, with a few of his faithful followers. His presence was betrayed to his enemies, who suddenly descended upon him. Philip escaped by a hair's breadth, but his wife and boy were carried off prisoners. The authorities at Plymouth solemnly debated over the question as to what should be done with these captives. Some favored putting them to death, but it was finally agreed to sell them as slaves. This was done, as in the case of many others, and they were sent to the Bermudas.